Page 16 of Never Say Die
“Good. Apologize to your bandmates.”
Now,thatwas a curveball Aiden hadn’t expected. He flashed his teeth, grinning horribly.
Shay flexed his jaw. Knuckles paled around his to-go cup. He cleared his throat and looked at Georgia first. “I’m sorry,” he said, exhaling sharply through his nose. “What I did was beyond shitty, but it’s what I had to do.”
“We’ve been here before, me and you,” Georgia said. Her lace shawl drooped over her shoulder, revealing a floral half-sleeve. “If you could do it again, would you take it back?”
Shay shook his head. “If I took it back, we wouldn’t be here right now. I made the necessary plays to becomesomeone, to get somewhere. Fuck, anywhere. Leaving Knight’s Blood was a part of that transition.”
“Transition,” Aiden mocked, snorting. “Get off your high horse, princess.”
“Harsh, Shay. Real harsh,” Dylan said.
“I’m sorry, I am. But that’s the truth,” Shay said. “I made a move to further my career.”
“Careful, hot shot. You were still Chain Reaction’sreplacementsinger. Past tense. You ain’t shit yet, but you’re on your way. I can’t deny that,” Jacob said. “Listen, if we do this, we do it right. We treat this tour like a homecoming. Bittersweet reunions, empowerment, getting back to your roots, yada yada. Are we all on board with that?”
“Fine,” Aiden said.
Dylan nodded.
Reluctantly, Georgia nodded, too. “I want a copy of his contract.”
“Everyone’ll get a copy,” Jacob assured. He lifted his phone to his ear and stood, circling his hand in the air above their table. “Rehearsal tonight, dipshits. Don’t be late. Aiden, bring pizza.”
Shit. He still needed to pay rent. “Yeah, okay,” Aiden said. “Be there at seven?”
“Five, you idiot. You’re twenty-four hours out from the second stop on an impromptu national tour. We’re rehearsing as much as possible.” He jabbed his finger at Shay. “You’ll need a makeover. Dye your hair, pierce your face, figure it out.” Shay bared his fangs. Hard laughter shook Jacob’s shoulders and he hollered, “What are you supposed to be, Manson’s wet dream? Do more!”
People at nearby tables craned, tracking Jacob as he left the café. Tension brewed. Georgia picked at her short, crimsonfingernails, and Dylan re-tied his ponytail. Shay traded his cup from one hand to the other, eyes heavy on the tabletop.
Well, Jacob didn’t break a chair over Shay’s face and Georgia didn’t punch him in the dick, and the band was aband. Aiden called it a win.
Aiden nudged Georgia’s shin, and asked, “Did you wire us our cut from the show?”
“I cashed the check. I’ve got your. . . third,” she said, laughing bitterly. “Thomas ran off before I could pay him. Looks like we’re getting a bonus.” Her dark eyes flicked to Shay. “Speaking of which, how’s the money in sellout land?”
“You’re about to find out.” Shay sipped his coffee and turned toward the window.
“Guess you’re right,” Dylan said. He slapped his palm on Shay’s shoulder. Always the goddamn peacekeeper. “Glad to have you back, Bennett.”
Finally, Shay cracked a smile. He glanced at Aiden, a fleeting, purposeful look. “Yeah, it’s good to be back.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Aiden propped his boots on the dashboard and adjusted his sunglasses, face tipped toward the open passenger window. He stretched his arm behind his head and held out two fingers. Dylan lounged across the backseat with his heels on the window, toes in the wind. He pushed a slim joint between Aiden’s knuckles. Aiden brought the paper to his mouth, sucking smoke into his lungs. He resisted the urge to cough. Exhaled. Muscles relaxed, almost instantly. Thoughts turned molasses slow as Georgia sang along to Led Zeppelin, and Dylan waved his arms, dancing lazily. Aiden handed the joint back to him and stared at the glittering ocean along the 405, reminiscing on rehearsal. Eating pizza between songs, watching Shay sign a ten-page contract, listening to their music come alive for the first time in twelve months. Aiden could hate him—they all could—but Shay delivered.
“Still can’t believe Thomas ditched us for Canadian cooch,” Georgia said. She prodded Aiden in the ribs. “Didn’t he kick it with you after the show? Like, did you guys stay at the bar or. . . ?”
“He came over and passed out in the hallway. When I woke up, he was gone,” Aiden said.
Dylan laughed. “In thehallway?”
The scene flashed violently. Shay digging through Thomas’s limp body. Teeth in Thomas’s heart. Blood shining black in the moonlight. Aiden choked down the truth. “Yeah, poor guy couldn’t keep it together,” he said, and cleared the unwanted emotion from his voice. “How we feelin’? First night back on stage with Shay, press release on Friday, Vegas on Saturday.”
“Feelin’ like this is either the best decision we’ll ever make or the worst,” Georgia said. “I mean, honestly, this whole thing feelsweird. Playing together again. . . It’s like going back in time, man. I don’t know. All the family cookouts, movie marathons in the garage after band practice, pickin’ me up from school before I got my own ride,” she said, drumming her palms on the steering wheel. She glanced at Aiden over her sunglasses. “You remember. All that shit makes it hard to hate him.”
“Makes it easier, actually,” Aiden muttered.
